


Rose, thou art Sick

by Caesia390



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22827829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caesia390/pseuds/Caesia390
Summary: They didn't see Tom Riddle. Ginny was sure of that.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Rose, thou art Sick

XxX

People looked at Ginny and saw _Weasley_ , red hair and freckles. They saw brothers or quidditch or maybe _Harry Potter._ They saw _sleeping her way through the male population of Hogwarts._

They didn't see Tom Riddle.

Ginny was sure of that.

She pulled her hair back in the mornings. She trimmed her nails short, noticed how long and tapered her fingers had grown, how speckle-splotched her hands. Checked under her nails for blood and thought about maybe staying with Fred and George over the summer, maybe actually getting paid for helping them with their pranks.

Ginny wrote notes to herself on scraps of parchment and then incendio'd them away, tapping her quill against her lips and wondering if she looked something like studious Hermione.

Ginny saw brown eyes in the mirror. She saw breasts jutting big enough and please god not my mother's hips and maybe she should get an earring like Bill, and there was no way she'd charm her face like some of those Slytherin sluts, and only in the corner, there, turning her head away, was a flash of Tom.

A flash of Tom, like a beauty mark or a scar, and she only noticed it sometimes. And she only wondered sometimes if anyone else could see.

If the quiet, worried way her father looked at her meant that he could see.

There was crippling fear, and there was sitting on that bed in Grimmauld Place saying, _You don't know what it's like to be possessed by Voldemort_. Like she knew. Like she remembered a thing.

There was Tom laughing at her in her dreams, and his voice was rich and echoing, unreal because she'd barely heard it, his image faint because she'd barely seen it, and he mocked from her mirror, _You think I'm dead?_

He clutched at her in her nightmares - _You think you've really escaped me?_

But in her mirror she sees Ginny Weasley, stronger and smarter and lovelier than her brothers, Ginevra Weasley the female scion, blood red and proud as Gryffindor's, and gazing into the reflection of one coward Slytherin she says, _No, Tom, it's me who's got you._

xXxXxXx


End file.
